


Every Morning There Are Mountains To Climb

by RubyElysian



Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU, Abused Sam, Alternate Universe, Bottom Sam, Established Relationship, Graphic Non-Con, Humiliation, Hurt/Comfort, John Winchester's A+ Parenting, M/M, POV Third Person Omniscient, Parent/Child Incest, Pre-Series, Protective Benny Lafitte, Protective Dean Winchester, Sam-Centric, Secrets, Sexual Abuse, Sibling Incest, Spanking, Top Dean, Top John, Wincest - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-03
Updated: 2018-03-17
Packaged: 2018-05-04 17:59:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,274
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5343287
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RubyElysian/pseuds/RubyElysian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John found out about Sam and Dean's relationship when the hard way, but for some reason he didn't blame Dean at all. He believed that Sam corrupted his brother. So when he sent Dean to go hunt on his own while he 'took care' of Sam, he had no idea what was happening to his brother. Almost three years later when Dean temporarily takes his little brother in so that their father can follow a lead to the demon that killed their mother, he finds out the horrible truth. How will Dean deal with the truth of their separation? How will Sam deal with his brother being back in his life, and how will he deal with his deepest secret being found out?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So, this is my first fanfiction in a long time, and my first crack at SPN fiction, so bear with me please!  
> Also, I don't have a beta so if my work isn't perfect please know that it hasn't been heavily edited.  
> I hope you enjoy it!  
> (The name for this piece comes from the song REALiTi by Grimes)

Sam was startled suddenly out of reading a book he borrowed from school when he heard the key turning in the lock on the door. His father, who was clearly inebriated, stumbled through the door of their motel room smelling like whiskey and cigarette smoke. He slammed it loudly behind him in a pathetic display of the rage that reared its ugly head when John drank too much. Which was always really. 

He had obviously just come back from the bar, hours later than the time he told Sam that he would be back. It wasn't cause for conversation though, both of them were used to John's tardiness when it came to Sam. 

Sam didn't mind it though. Sam actually preferred the nights when John would leave him at home alone to go fuck off somewhere, he reveled in the weeks that John would leave him by himself for hunts that were too dangerous to drag him along. They were his only solace in the world since Dean set out to hunt on his own. They were the times that Sam's constant depression let up the most, though it was never fully gone.

John sat the keys to his truck on the table and turned to Sam.

Sam hated looking at John's face, he hated hearing his voice, he hated blindly following ever order he was given like a dog. Like Dean would before he left. Sam didn't want to listen, but he did. Even when it was wrong he still did it. Even when it was so wrong and he knew... 

It made him feel sick to think of the things he'd submitted to at the hands of his father, but he was afraid of the things that he was subjected to back when he used to dare to outright say no to him. He never wanted to endure those things ever again, so he did what he was told.

Dean wasn't there to protect him anymore, Dean didn't love him anymore. Sam couldn't afford to be defiant to his father without him there. He could beg still though, no matter how small it made him feel.

"Get on the bed Sam." John commanded. He was drunk and he felt powerful, he wanted Sam to feel that. To feel how much power he had over the younger man. It already satisfied the older man to see the bruises he had caused previously.

All of Sam's pride told him to tell John to fuck off and stop doing sick shit to him, that he was his son for god sake. That he was getting too old for this. But after getting the shit beat out of him too many times, logic took over. After being laid out enough times and roughly taken without his permission, face stuffed into stale smelling carpet, he learned his lesson. Your life is worth more than your pride.

Sam could name more than a few times that he was afraid John was going to kill him, and while he didn't really value his life in any way he still didn't want to lose it. He didn't quite know why. He still like to put up small defiances though, since he couldn't get away with the big ones. He still liked to beg in the small hope that it would actually help him.

"Please not tonight Dad." Sam pleaded as he stood up. "I-I have an important test in the morning and I really don' wanna-"

Sam stopped immediately when John put his hand up the familiar silent command to shut his mouth as he stepped out of his boots.

"I didn't ask you what you wanted or not boy, I said get on the fucking bed. So get on the fucking bed before I make you do it, understand?" John snapped. 

Sam's breath caught in his throat, submission just a hair's breadth away. But he really didn't want this right now, or ever really. His ass was still sore from the day before when John had just gotten home from a hunt and decided to keep him home from school to show him how much he 'missed him'.

"Please Dad, it still hurts from yesterday and I don't know if I can take-" He felt John's meaty hand wrap around his throat and squeeze, cutting off his words and his air flow as he made a small choking noise. Sam was slammed up against the wall, wincing when the back of his head banged against it.

"You can and will take anything I am willing to give you! Don't forget your place Sam, and don't forget how you got there." John growled into his ear and loosened his grip on Sam's throat a little bit. "After all, if I hadn't caught someone riding their older brother into the mattress then I wouldn't have had to send Dean to go hunt on his own so you would stop corrupting him with your filth! Now take your clothes off and do as I said!"

John steps back just enough so that Sam can remove his clothes.

Sam's shaking fingers moved to the buttons on his flannel but they merely fumbled with them so John just ripped it open and yanked it off of him. He looked down at the floor in shame as he pulled off his under-shirt and shimmied out of his jeans that were worn and becoming too short near his ankles.

He kind of wanted to cry, he hated it when John brought Dean up. Dean was the only person he ever truly loved, the only one who knew him inside and out and because of Sam and his inability to control his raging hormones he hadn't even seen Dean's face or heard his voice since he had barely turned fifteen.

Heck, he didn't even know if he would want to see Dean again. Well more like he wouldn't want Dean to see him. They had split on pretty bad terms, and he knew his older brother would be so ashamed with him if he saw him now, lord knows he was ashamed in himself.

Sam didn't know why, but no matter how many times he was forced to do this his he was still met with the same burning shame and guilt as the first time. He never wanted this. He never wanted this with anyone except Dean. But Dean didn't even seem to have many qualms about leaving him. Now this was all he had. Dean hadn't even bothered to call him.

Sam was about to drop his boxers and get into the bed like he was told when he hears John's gravelly voice speaking to him.

"Turn around" 

Sam complied, feeling nervous like always, tense and still as a stone as John dipped his index finger into the elastic of his boxers and dragged them down to his thighs. John's hand trailed back up Sam's leg and to one of the perfect globes of his ass, gripping it with his left hand and then bringing his right hand down in a hard smack. Then another, and another.

Sam yelped and had to grip his hands together in front of him so he didn't try to cover his ass from the assault, that would be counted as defiance.

John put his mouth close to Sam's ear, gruff voice whispering.

"I think you need a spanking Sammy, good boys do what they're told the first time, without arguing. Don't you want to be a good boy for Daddy?" John removed a hand from his ass to trace the sharp edge of his son's increasingly defining jaw. When he didn't get an immediate answer he brought a hand down harder on his ass.

"Answer me!" John bellowed.

"Y-Yes sir" Sam squeaked, hoping in vain that the bare minimum response would work.

"Yes sir what?" John taunted, wanting to hear the younger man say it.

"Yes sir, I w-wanna... be a good boy for Daddy.." Sam says with a trembling voice. 

The older Winchester smirked, his already half-hard dick perking up even more in his jeans.

"Good." He stated, fingers absently stroking the barely pink-tinged flesh of his sons bubble butt. He removed his belt and took a seat on the side of the bed, patted his lap and continued. "Then be a good boy and take your spanking like you deserve."

"Yes Daddy." Sam's reply was so quiet and resigned that he could barely hear it himself.

He removed his boxers all the way and laid himself over John's lap, ass in the air like he knew he was supposed to. 

John wet his lips with his tongue at the sight in front of him.

"Fifteen licks" He said. "I want you to count all of them out loud."

Then he folded the belt over his hand and brought it down on his youngest son's ass. Sam bit back a noise and then started counting.

"One"

*SMACK*

"Two"

*SMACK*

"Three"

*SMACK*

"F-Four"

That's when the whimpering started, and Sam couldn't help but wiggle away from the belt slightly as he counted. He felt John's sinful erection rubbing against his stomach as he moved. It seemed to be making his dad harder. He closed his eyes and willed it to be over soon. 

***

When it ended, John was so horny he wasn't even going to try to go easy on Sam. He just picked him up off of his lap and tossed him face down on the bed, hauling his hips up to get better access to that sweet, tight pucker.

The sight of the beet red behind and furled hole in front of him had John's eyes darkening as he reached for the lube off of the bedside table. He quickly coated his fingers and then impatiently stuffed two of them into Sam, ignoring his choked cry of pain as he prodded around inside that clenching and silky heat. 

He didn't really care that he wasn't being careful, nor did he care that the younger man was still sore. This wasn't for Sam, this was a purely selfish act. After all, John Winchester was a selfish man.

John scissored his fingers, twisting them and shoving them in and out until he could add another. He sprouted a crooked grin when he heard Sam trying to stifle accidental moans of pleasure. He pulled his fingers out of the wet hole before him to unbutton his jeans and shove them down enough to pull his aching cock out.

He gripped it with the hand still wet with lube and pumped up and down a few times before leading it to Sam's ass. 

"I'm gonna fuck you so hard you won't be able to sit straight for a week." He moaned out while rubbing his cock-head against Sam's crack.

"Beg me." His father demands. "Beg me to fuck you hard, tell me you need it."

"Please fuck me Daddy. Please fuck me hard." Sam said it, even though it sounded so unsure coming from his lips. He didn't sound like he wanted it at all. "I need it so bad."

"Yeah you do." John breathed out. "I'm gonna fucking miss this." He added. He shouldn't have been leaving on another hunt so soon, so where else would he go? Sam wondered. 

He didn't have enough time to ponder that statement because of the cock that forced its way inside him in one hard thrust. He didn't mean to, but he yelled out in pain/pleasure that consumed him when John grabbed him by the hair and started thrusting like an animal into his body.

He felt embarrassed at the erection bobbing up an down in between his legs. He wasn't supposed to like this, he was supposed to be disgusted by it. And he was, but he still felt like his own body was a traitor.

Soon, the pleasure from the pressure against his prostate had him a leaking, moaning mess. He tried to hush the noises by shoving his face into the pillow, but he had no such luck when John reached around and started jerking his cock. Both of them knew it was almost over when John attached his teeth to the shoulder beneath him and his thrusts became increasingly more frantic.

Sam came first, cheeks red hot when Shame flared in his lower belly as he came all over his stomach and the sheets below him. Spraying a sticky mess everywhere. A mess he knew he would have to deal with later.

John came directly after Sam, the clench of his hole as he came acting as the catalyst for the older man's orgasm. He spurted come all inside Sam, there was even some leaking out of his hole around his father's cock. John's finger swiped some of it up an stuck it in his mouth. He was fully sated now.

As the eldest Winchester pulled his cock out of the youngest, he told him something he was never expecting to hear in his life.

"In a week, I'm sending you to stay with Dean for a couple of months." He said nonchalantly while yawning.

Sam had never spun around so fast in his life.

"What, why?!" Sam asked. Truly afraid to see his older brother, his older brother whom he still loved. Whom he still dreamed about in ways he shouldn't, whom he was so angry at for just leaving him and never saying a word. And he didn't understand why his father was letting him go to Dean so easily when he tried so hard to keep them apart.

"Because I found a lead on the demon that killed your mother. It might go after you to get to me if you're left alone. Dean is the only one I trust to keep an eye on you. And don't you fucking dare touch him when you get there. None of this is up for discussion. We'll spend a few more days here and then we're heading toward wherever Dean is posted up at. Get cleaned up and go to sleep."

Sam's mouth opened and closed a few times before he let out a simple, "Yes sir."

He had no idea what the fuck he was going to do. So he just did as he was told, like always.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam and John start on the long road to Texas.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry that I have neglected this story like I have! So many crazy things and changes have happened in my life, for a long time I didn't have internet or a phone. I'm going to really try to start updating regularly on this story. I'm back in the spirit to write and I have the means. So expect more!

Sam had no idea what to think. John changed his mind from 'spend a few days in town' to 'spend a few days going on a hunt where you get to be bait for a black dog' and time always flies on a hunt. Even when you're forced to be bait every. damn. time. And if his father would've just listened to his plan then no one would've had to be bait. 

The hunt was over now though, and before he even knew it, the day to depart on the journey to Dean came. 

He was so nervous he felt sick. But that also might've been attributed to by the two sets of deep claw marks imbedded into his flesh that weren't technically being treated correctly due to a low supply of bandages and an empty stock of antibiotics. The black dog messed him up bad, and there wasn't much he could do about it. He had four claw marks on the meat of his left thigh that hurt like a bitch but was mainly superficial, what he was really worried about were the long and deep claw marks along his ribs on his right side that wouldn't stop bleeding after they got back from the hunt. John had left to the bar immediately so he was left to stitch them up himself despite the hand shaking from the blood loss and the slugged movement from the amount of whiskey he had to down in order to ignore the pain. They were some really sloppy stitches, but they weren't the worst he'd seen a winchester do. 

He was just worried about infection, though he would make do with what they had. And that was antiseptic and a bottle of prescription pain killers his Dad shoved into his hands as he told Sam to stop being all 'wincy and twitchy' and to 'be a goddamn man about it'. Sam was grateful for the pills, if Dean questioned Sam having an injury he'd want to see it, and if Sam took off his shirt... there would be a host of things he would have to try to lie to Dean about. He didn't know how he would do that (Dean always saw through him) but he knew he couldn't drag Dean into this whole mess with their father. His older brother didn't even have a clue that their Dad knew about their relationship. He just thought that John trusted him enough to be on his own. 

Sam didn't know why their Dad reserved all his anger for his youngest, but he was ever glad Dean wasn't dragged into the sadistic nightmare that was his current reality. And if it would be up to Sam, which it was, then Dean would never know his father even had an ill hand to lay upon him. Sam didn't even know if Dean would care if he knew of the abuse... He'd never turned against their father before, he probably never would. Sam would never ask that of him anyway.

Sam was packing all the bags into John's four door Chevy while his dad was off returning the room key to the front desk. He threw their canvas duffels in the bed of the truck, then threw the weapons bags in the back seat for easy access, he checked the protection and the oil for the road trip and then hopped into the passenger seat to wait for John. He felt loopy from the first dose of pain meds he took with the gas station burrito he ate for breakfast that morning, he just wanted to get on the road already so he could relax into the first painless moment he had and so he could get away from his dad as fast as humanly possible. His head was buzzing with giddiness and fear at the thought of seeing his older brother again. Everytime he longed to see Dean he imagined being back in Dean's arms in bed, he imagined that everything was okay and that he wasn't too fucked up to love now, that he had never been.. raped.. It was an impossible dream, but it sounded so nice.

Dean would never be his the way he longed for, that was the reason being near him would taste so bittersweet. Everything beautiful that was taken from Sam would be flaunted in his face, and he would keep his hands to himself because that was the right thing to do. He didn't even think he could hold a relationship with anyone anymore, much less with his brother (if Dean even still wanted him) he was messed up in the head when it came to the power dynamics that come with sexual and emotional relationships. John was very dehumanizing to him on so many levels, he often liked to treat Sam as if he were a pet. John rarely ever dropped the money for an extra bed anymore, if John didn't want him in his bed then Sam would sleep on the floor or in the car, or occasionally when they had a couch in their motel room he would sleep on that. His father would make him kneel by his feet while doing research so when he wanted a break Sam would be there to give him head. 

Sam wasn't aloud to make his own desicions when his father was around, he wasn't aloud to argue in his own place, he wasn't aloud to ask for things. He began to believe that he didn't deserve to want things. In every friendship or small romance he tried to kindle he got walked on and pressured into things because he didn't stand up for himself, he went along with every suggestion that felt uncomfortable because he didn't know where he should draw his line. He stopped trying to find people he liked. Everyone was so sexual, and Sam didn't even like to be touched. He tried to be okay with sex... But it always made him feel sick. He hated his father, but he's the only person in the world that was close to Sam..

John got inside the truck and swung the heavy door shut, his stance stiffened in attention to his father out of habit. John threw a map in his lap and started the car. He had a beer in his hands, Sam felt uneasy.

"Your brother's been kicking it in the Texas Hill country for the past while, supernatural activity there's out of control this last year or so. He's struck up a semi-permanent residence somewhere near Medina with some huntin partner of his. He's some Cajun fellow named Benny, that's where I'm dumping you at. Find the area on the map and give me directions, we might make a couple stops along the way but if I don't stop to get a bed we should be there by tomorrow afternoon."

Sam's 'yessir' was ignored as John pulled out of the motel parking lot. Sam opened the map and stared marking the most efficient route to take. 

\----------

They were only about an hour from Dean's place, and at some point during the morning Sam fell asleep against the window. He was startled awake by his father pulling the truck onto the gravel on the side of the road. He blinked the sleep out of his eyes, wondering why they were stopped. He had stayed up all night giving directions to John on the road and John was being awful. He kept cracking open beers and making Sam give him oral while driving. Sam was kind of afraid for his life cause he didn't trust his father to be able to drive while cumming in his mouth. Everything turned out fine, but he was really tired.

He looked up at his dad and John was looking at him with a face he didn't like.

"Get in the backseat and drop your pants. I want to get one last fuck in to remind you who your ass really belongs to."

Sam opened the car door, reassuring himself that this is the last time this has to happen to him for a while. He really couldn't wait to be away from his fucking father...


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the beginning of the chapter Dean is 18 and Sam is nearing 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello readers, I'm here with another chapter for you guys. And because its been so long since I last updated it is a very long one comparatively to the others. This is because I've been working on it for a long time when I have been able to. I apologize greatly for the neglect I have shown this work and I still insist on not abandoning it. I know that no amount of apologizing will surmount the promises that I have broken about updating this fic. Though I do hope that you as logical readers and people would understand that often times life keeps being difficult even when you think you're in the clear, I thought I was going to be able to pay more attention to this story but due to personal circumstances and obstacles I had not been able to. I am not regretful that I turned my attention from the fanfiction world and invested it into the problems that needed my help, but I am sorry to keep you guys waiting. Rest assured, I am making a greater effort to turn over more of my free time to writing because not only do I love making a story to entertain you all, but I also love merely creating something from inside my mind that I can go back to and see over and over, even if its inspired from something someone else made. I enjoy writing even when its hard and I'm not going to give up on what I started. I hope you guys stick with the story and enjoy the new chapters coming soon!

_There were warm hands stroking up Sam's spine, firm yet so gentle. Familiar fingers tracing up and down the dips and plains of his body adoringly, caressing him with a love far more than sex, despite that it usually only got to see the light of day between the sheets at night._

_Sam always melted under those hands that had never faltered, those hands had never failed to protect him or make him feel safe. Those arms were always a nirvana away from the stress of his life. When Dean was wrapped around him all his worries melted off into the warmth and control_ _he readily offered._

_It was inevitable that Sam would fall in love with Dean really. What else was he supposed to d_ _o? He was lavished with attention and care from him his whole life, his older brother was the only person alive who ever gave a crap enough to know him, and to Sam, Dean was the hero who strung the stars and hung the moon just for him._

_It was a hot summer night in a cheap cabin with no air conditioner off of the Guadalupe river in Kerrville, Texas. The boys were stripped down to their underwear to avoid the heat, the sounds of frog croaks and cicada humming in the distance were drowned out by the soft moans and gasps being drawn from them as they kissed and touched each other's sweat slicked bodies._

_Sam's fingernails dug into the skin of Dean's back when the older boy pressed him down into the mattress and slid his calloused palm down into the back of his little brother's boxers to_ _tightly_ _grip his ass, pulling his cheeks apart so he could easily access what was in between. Dean panted, sucking on three of his fingers to wet them. Shoving his other hand in Sam's boxers too, he teased his middle finger around the tight puckered hole then pushed his finger in just barely, rubbing until the younger produced a whimper. Then he pulled it away with a smirk._

_"Dean" Sam panted into his big brother's neck. "Please don't tease me like that unless you're actually gonna fuck me tonight." He wiggled his hips against Dean's stomach to try to get some blessed friction on his aching cock._

_Sam didn't think he could take another night with a raging boner, Dean's own erection slotted snugly against his ass as he tried to sleep. Laying next to the Adonis that was his older brother and not being able to do anything about it because their father was in the next bed snoring was Sam's personal hell. John always seemed to stay out drinking just late enough for Dean to rile Sam up so badly that he was dripping come and then he would show back up before either of them were able to get off._

_One of Dean's favorite things in the world was teasing his little brother. He didn't like the blue balls it gave him but he thought it was hilarious to watch his brother squirm. Sam knew that for Dean it wasn't just about frustrating Sam (which Dean thought was adorable as hell). It was about winding him up as tight as he could be strung for as long as possible, and then unleashing everything all at once until there was nothing left to feel but Dean and blinding pleasure. Sam hated being teased But he basked in almost every amount of affection his sibling gave him, he just needed it from Dean. He didn't think he could function without Dean, his touch kept Sam grounded, his approval made him feel like he was walking on clouds._

_So he endured the teasing, he let Dean mess with him even on nights he knew John would be home if he wanted to. If that made his older brother happy, then he would do it. That didn't mean he wouldn't complain about it sometimes though. He_ was _the little brother after all._

 _"Don't worry baby boy, I've got you all to myself for the next week or so, Dad called and said he_ _won't_ be _home again..._ "

_Dean squeezed his ass and traced his lips along his sweaty neck. Usually Sam would be upset when_ _their_ _Father ditched them, though this time he was wound up so tight he_ _couldn't_ _help bit feel relieved._

_"So we can?..." Sam asks breathlessly, causing Dean to chuckle. His laugh was so deep, thick and sweet sounding that Sam imagined it would taste like raw honey if he put their mouths together just then._

_"Yes, Samantha, we can fuck. Now roll over babe." Sarcastic and crass like usual,_ _but_ _it made Sam sputter and turn beet red. He rolled over anyway when he heard Dean click the top off of the lube._

_"Dean.. It's Sam, m'not a girl.." he whined into the pillow, then his voice cut off into the most high pitched moan unexpectedly. Dean had shoved two slick fingers up his hole_ _without_ _warning and curled them to reach that place that_ _made_ _lights dance behind his eyes. "Deeeeeeeaaaaaan!! Ah! Ahhh!"_

_He_ _couldn't_ _see his older brother's grin but he could hear it in his voice. "But Sammy how can you say that when you moan so pretty like a girl?" A warm_ _hand_ _traced down his back to fit_ _right_ _into the perfect arch there. "And you arch_ _right_ _into me like a girl. No,_ _it's_ _better than with a girl. Sammy, you're so much better, so much softer than any girl_ _I've_ _ever seen. I_ _don't_ _even_ _know how to describe you."_

 _He trailed his fingers up Sam's thigh, sucking on a couple fingers before using them to play with his hole. When Sam moaned needily, Dean slowly sunk his middle finger into his heated insides. He found the younger man's prostate in expert time. Another moan. Another finger pushed inside. Then another. Dean started fucking his_ _fingers_ _in_ _and out,_ _curling_ _them at just the right_ _spot_ _so Sam felt like he was floating on clouds. The rough cabin sheets somehow felt like silk on his skin. Another finger went in._

_"Dean, yes!" Sam panted, his hips chasing the four of Dean's fingers without his permission. He needed more_ _. "Please fuck me, please Dean oh god."_

_Dean grunted like some wild animal, "Yeah baby,_ _I_ _will" he growled. Sam let out a depraved moan when the fingers got pulled out. "Get it wet?"_ _The_ _older brother asked as he_ _let_ _his swollen erection bob between them._

_Instead of a reply Dean got a warm mouth quickly swallowing_ _down_ _his member, going up and_ _down_ _a few times and letting the saliva pool before_ _pulling_ _off. The very_ _next_ _second_ _Dean used his_ _immeasurable_ _strength to push_ _Sam's_ _body_ _up_ _against the headboard and have him wrap his_ _legs_ _around his waist as he_ _pushed_ _up_ _into_ _Sam's tight hole, immediately setting a marathon pace._

 _Sam could hardly do_ _anything_ _but_ _gasp_ _and moan. He had one_ _hand_ _holding_ _for dear life onto the headboard, and the other_ _unconsciously_ _clawing_ _into_ _Dean's_ _chiseled back muscles._

_"Ah, Dean I love you so much!" He moaned. "I_ _love_ _you too baby boy, feel so good when_ _I'm_ _with you." His brother replied_ _breathlessly_ _._

_"Let me ride you!" Sam demanded. "I wanna_ _make_ _you_ _feel_ _even better."_

_Dean instantly grabbed Sam by the waist and flipped them around so that his own back was against the headboard, hands_ _on_ _Sam's_ _sweaty hips as he started to thrust up and down. Dean just held_ _on_ _has Sam worked them to completion, he just_ _held_ _on as_ _he filled the smaller boy up with cum. They held onto each other when they collapsed down in bed stroking each_ _other_ _and_ _coming down from their orgasms. They held onto each other and the whole time they_ _didn't_ _notice John Winchester watching them through the open window, a look of rage overtaking his hardened features._

_"Do you really love me?" Asked_ _Sam_ _, always so insecure._

_"Of course_ _I_ _do." Said Dean without hesitation. "Of course."_

_John clenched his fists._

_~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~_

Sam awoke in a start, Dean's name a gasp on his lips. He smacked his hands up to cover his mouth and peered up at his father from his mediocre sleeping bag on the floor. John was still snoring loudly like some sort of snarling bear, thank goodness. He didn't want John changing his mind about leaving him with Dean if he saw some sappy shit like Sam waking up calling his name. He was ready to not be around his father, he almost wanted to curse out loud when John had rented one last motel room the night before. Apparently Dean and his partner weren't home from a hunt yet so they had to stall another day.

Sam fell back against his pillow, closing his eyes to relive the chillingly vivid memory of the last time he saw his brother. Really _saw_ him. Hazel orbs filled with tears as Dean's devilishly handsome smirk replayed itself over and over, he missed that smile. Sam clenched his fists, grabbed the pair of jeans he wore the day before and turned toward the motel bathroom.

The second the door shut behind Sam, he slid to the floor with his back up against the wood and pulled out his brown leather wallet from his jeans. Both things were more hand-me-downs from his older brother, like most things he owned.

As he pulled his closest friend the little razor out of his wallet, his latest dream flashed through his mind. John had told him how he found out. Told him how he came back for his journal before heading out again, and he saw them through the window. Told him how he knew who to blame. Sam dreamt about that too now, his stupidity and recklessness that cost him the world. And while he looked at his distorted reflection in the beautiful shine of the stainless steel blade he thought of how much easier it would be if he just couldn't dream anymore.

The razor sliced into his upper right thigh with acute persicion, two lines of flesh opened up right on top of each other. The first twinge of numbness welled up inside Sam sluggishly, much like the blood that released itself from the fresh wounds. The numbness, much like the blood, just wasn't enough.

Sam started dreaming of Dean through all the nights leading up to their reunion. It was torturous at best, but he knew what that meant. It meant Sam wasn't over Dean. At least not enough to be living with him, free of his father lurking around over his shoulder to make sure he stays in line. He had to be better than that, he had to separate himself from his feelings for Dean. He could be better than this, he could make himself be numb, detached around Dean. He's done it to everyone else.

He cut three more deep slices on his thigh, deeper than before. The different trails of blood started to flow into one stream and then down to the floor. Smudging white bath tile red.

He used to dream about Dean almost every night before he resigned himself to the fact that his brother simply wouldn't be around anymore, that the other half of his bed would be forever empty of the only person he really wanted to be there. It was just John and him. He had to pick up other coping tactics to survive his new life.

Cutting was the only thing that seemed to work when alcohol and drugs weren't readily available.

Sam guessed, the news of being able to see Dean sparked some sort of dull hope inside him that caused the dreams. Some sort of repressed desire to gain help from his brother, to be with him again. Dean used to be the best hope for help that Sam would ever get and he knew it, but now he was far beyond help. Anyone could see that, and telling Dean the truth about John would only crush him.

Dean idolized their father so much, and Sam didn't want to take away the only person left except Bobby that Dean had to look up to. In Sam's eyes, the only way to deal with this situation was to not even consider telling Dean the truth, he needed to keep his brother in the dark about this. He couldn't let Dean get _any_ clue about it. And that meant he couldn't have him doing any of the stuff they used to do, even the brotherly stuff like the hugs and jabs. He had to act like he didn't want to be close with his older brother anymore, he had to act like they'd just grown apart or something and that he's just different now. Yeah, he had to push Dean away if he wanted to protect him... and if he wanted to protect himself from getting hurt.

He made a few fresh cuts on the opposite thigh than before, (avoiding the claw marks) then he ran his fingertips through the ribbons of blood.

He would let Dean go. He would finally let Dean free even in his head. With that plan in mind, he was at ease for at least a second. He couldn't help it, he tried so hard before to extricate Dean from his life. To let Dean go live for his own self and not be tied down by the anchor that was his love sick baby brother. Sam found that the only way he could do that and still function properly with the way his life was going, was by trying to eradicate every thought or mention of Dean that he could from his life. After Dean first left, he couldn't even acknowledge his brother's existence without feeling a confounding loneliness that came from an unfillable hole inside him.

The idea was that if he pretended his brother virtually didn't exist, then he didn't have to face that fact that he was an aching hollow shell of a person without him. If Dean didn't exist he couldn't be missing from Sam's life, there would be no reason for disappointment when nobody called to check up on him. When nobody questioned the blood on the motel sheets because nobody was there. It wouldn't be that simple  again for a long while.

Sam looked down, there was a lot more blood than he saw before and he was feeling kind of dizzy. He wiped his blade clean and put it away, then he stumbled his way to the shower. With somewhat of a new resolve of what he was gonna do in mind, he washed the blood off in the steaming water, cleaned and dressed his wounds and got dressed for the day. He made sure to clean the blood on the floor on his way out.

When he re-entered the motel room he found John sitting on the edge of the bed smoking his morning cigarette and getting dressed. He pulled a flannel button up over his white wife beater as he commanded his son. "Sam, give me that ashtray." The ashtray appeared in front of him immediately.

"Now go fetch my boots" Sam went to get the boots from by the door he didn't question orders anymore. He brought the boots and sat them at John's feet. When the older man reached for his thick leather belt Sam flinched back. John smirked at his son's obvious fear. He snapped the belt in his hands, cigarette hanging out of his lopsided grin as he asked, "Want some extra attention from Daddy, huh?"

Sam paled. "N-N-No sir." He stammered, "I-Is there anything you n-need me to uh- get done before we head out?" ' _Please a_ _ccept_ _the subject change, please accept_ _the_ _subject change'_ Sam chanted in his head. His father chuckled at his discomfort as if it were cute.

"You should really remember your manners Sammy-boy or you might ruin my good mood. It's 'No sir' what? You're smart."

Sam hated his life.

"No sir.. Thank you sir..." he said dejectedly.

"Good" John said. "Now go put our things in the car so we can leave."

"Yes sir."

Then they soon got on the backwoods road to Dean.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Once they arrived, John was standing outside the car on the phone with Dean, he was pacing up and down the vehicle with a slow gait. Sam was so nervous he was sweating, he couldn't even pay attention to the muffled conversation outside the window. He was thanking the heavens that it seemed like Dean wasn't home at the moment (he probably traveled to town for supplies or something, Sam thought. Because his house seemed pretty far from any town), and biding his time trying to gain his usual concrete composure that took form when he had to be around people. He didn't want to see Dean, not when he was like this, not when he had to fake who he was. It seemed wrong to be anything but honest with his brother, he wasn't sure if he was even strong enough do this... But he was very surely set in his choice to keep his distance from Dean. He wouldn't back down.

    Sam tried to calm himself by taking note of his surroundings, he had to take a step away from his emotions and think of this analytically. Just like a hunt, he could do that. Just like any other hunt, follow the steps. Observe your situation to find out your options, weigh your choices with pros and cons, make a plan based on that analysis, take action, and remain calm while doing all of that. It was the key to killing every big bad monster he ever took down and he'd learned to apply it to every aspect of his life. It had never failed him before, so why would it now, thought Sam. He shook himself out of his thoughts and looked out the window. Step One: Observe.

    John's truck was turned off and parked in a big unpaved dirt driveway out front an old riverside home that looked very well broken in. It had all the signs of a house that someone had lived in for a very long time, there were two rusting broken down trucks that looked like 60's models parked off to the left of the house next to an unattached garage that held what looked like a 90's Chevy truck with the hood up like it was being worked on. Random lawn items and tools were strewn about the yard along with quaint little typical garden decorations. A twisted green water hose ran through too-tall lush grass, past cement angels, lawn chairs and red brick stepping stones to a decent sized herb garden in a bed underneath the right side window where it was spraying water onto the plants.

    The clearing that the house had been built on was surrounded by tall luscious trees of Juniper and Oak that hid the small house from the view of anyone driving down the road, and the cherry on top of the perfect southern homely scene was the narrow stream off the river that flowed right through the back yard. Like whoever owned the house also owned a little piece of the Guadalupe river just for themselves. It was beautiful, if not slightly off-putting seeing as it was weirdly welcoming looking for a hunter's house. Bobby's house was the most homely he'd ever seen of a hunter, but the outside was as unwelcome as all get out and the inside was dimly lit, dusty, and had a gun leaning against almost every door. This place seemed almost as if someone.. normal owned it. It seemed like the type of place Dean always said he'd feel weird living in and the type of place that Sam as a child always wanted to be. How odd it was that the tables had turned so much. Now Dean was the one who lived here and Sam was the one who felt too odd for comfort, and it had only been three years.

    He felt like being here was an invasion of privacy. It felt like the way the little house was built meant it was supposed to be hidden away from all prying eyes except the residents' and he had never really been a resident anywhere in his whole entire life, even though he wanted to be. He always dreamed of living somewhere like this, somewhere that looked like a real home, like comfort. But all he'd ever had was the backseat of a Chevy Impala or a hotel room, and his brother. But when Dean drove himself and the Impala out of his life, unknowing of any damage he left his brother to, Sam crumbled and lost any sense of home he ever felt. He  slowly gave up on his dream of finding a real home, of not being a hunter, and of leaving his father once and for all. He'd learned his lesson that there wasn't anything out there for him in the normal world like there was for everyone else.

    Running away once for a few months while John was gone on a long solo hunt was enough to decide he was too afraid to do it again. He wasn't good at hustling pool like Dean and he could rarely find any honest jobs for money, the only way Sam could make any steady money was by street fighting or selling himself for sex. It wasn't the first time Sam had been elicited for sex. John wasn't above selling Sam's body to skeevy men himself when they couldn't use their credit cards or he was too drunk to hustle pool. Also John left him with no money quite often before and you do what you've got to do to feed yourself, but hooking while he was living on the streets was much different than when he had a motel or a pay as you stay apartment to go back to afterwards that had a lock and a door and a cache of weapons to protect you.

    On the streets nowhere was sacred, there was no safe place to rest if you were tired, no place to hide your money, nowhere to shower. Unless you had a pimp to look out for you, if a John wanted you, you said yes cause if you said no he would often just beat you and do it anyway and then feel less inclined to compensate. Sam was lucky if he didn't get too roughed up by assholes to keep working, he was lucky if he actually got paid for every client in an evening, he was lucky if he didn't get his money stolen by other streetwalkers.

    He kept running into demons, for some strange reason they kept showing up around him more than usual when he was alone, it was giving him trouble. The only upside about the streets was that he enjoyed being away from his father. But even so, he felt something akin to relief when John tracked him down and dragged him back to his hellish home situation after the beating of his life and some other foul and twisted punishments he'd really rather not mention. Sometimes his father was much worse than usual. He was always awful, but sometimes when John looked down at him, Sam was sure that his father would be the cause of his death instead of some supernatural creature. Sometimes his father was more terrifying than the monsters they hunted.

    It was almost like there was this little switch deep inside John Winchester that turned him from bad to worse when it was flipped. He didn't know what caused the change, all he knew was that his father acted like a different person entirely when it happened. He did things he wouldn't usually do, like act friendly with demons and monsters to get information or get out of a deadly situation. And when you're being 'friendly' with fucked up sadistic monsters to gain their favor, you end up doing fucked up sadistic things along side them. Sam had been given over and brutalized by monsters many painful times just so that John could get some answers, or so he could gain the trust of foul beings. Sam was glad Dean never knew the side of his father that was okay with consorting with monsters if it was in his favor, he was glad Dean didn't know so many things about the way things were now.

    Sam would do whatever he could to keep his brother in the dark. He would use John's favor of Dean to his advantage. John never even let Dean have a clue that he knew about his relationship with Sam. It was a kindness that he was glad he was awarded. A kindness he would never take ymfor granted.

~~~~~~~~~~~

"Samuel!" John boomed through the front window of the truck.

"Yes sir?"

"Collect your things and step out. Your brother is on his way here, but he says his hunting partner will probably beat him to the punch any second now. He'll show us inside and tell you where to put your shit."

"Alright sir." Sam replied, reaching in the back to grab as much of his stuff as he could. While he would normally be able to carry all of it, just carrying his first two duffels started pulling on his stitches painfully. He felt blood seeping into his fresh bandages and felt glad he wore dark colors that day.

With his bags on his shoulders Sam stood at attention next to his father, peering at the dirt entrance of the clearing they were in. He busied himself himself by making his labored breathing sound normal until he heard the sound of tires crunching the dry dirt road.

Sam squinted to see, there was a dark blue Ford F-150 pulling into the clearing. It looked like the 2005 model and judging by the dust caked to the sides of it, it needed a good wash. The truck was quickly parked in front of the house and the door swung open wide so that its driver could hop out. _So this is Dean's hunting partner,_ Sam thought. A twinge of jealousy hit his gut but it was ignored.

Sam stood where he was as the man approached his father. John stuck out his right hand to shake.

"John, John Winchester. Nice to finally meet ya boy."

The man smiled and shook Johns hand, but Sam saw through it. Saw his ice blue eyes narrow in suspicion between them, and his nose twitched as if he were smelling something very pungent.

"Benny Lafitte sir, good to be meeting you. I've heard a lot." He said in a heavy Cajun drawl.

Then he turned and locked his intense beaming gaze directly at Sam, and while smiling like a right and natural predator he stuck his hand out as if he were a friend.


End file.
